“ - as surely as the farmer feeds us all, as surely as this great land of ours is covered with rolling fields of wheat, as surely as noah built the ark and little david smote goliath, as surely it is, my friends, that we are fast approaching a crisis not only in the history of our uniquely blessed nation , but in the history of mankind - “ mr bryan poured forth his eloquence under a cloudless blue sky. he held a little fan, that looked like a cabbage leaf, in his left hand, and occasionally waved it under his face, but did not really seem discomforted by the heat.
a crowd of about twenty thousand people, mostly farm folk, and many with picnic baskets and blankets that they had spread out on the trampled grass, stretched to the horizons around the red white and blue bedecked grandstand.
“it was not so long ago,” said “cowboy” grant, “that he could go on like this without a microphone.”
“i am sure ,” “rebel” roussel replied. “let’s find some shade. he sounds like he can go on forever.”
the two city slicker reporters were about thirty yards directly in front of the bandstand. they had come early to get such a good vantage, and had stood in the heat for hours.
“there is no shade,” cowboy said.
“how about a lemonade stand?” reb asked.
“it’s not worth beating back through the crowd, and besides, he is getting ready for his big announcement - if he has one. i know his style.”
“if you say so.” rebel took her fedora off and started fanning herself with it.
“in the history of mankind,” mr bryan was repeating. “and what do we find today - the same dissensions, the same inability to just get along that has beset the tribes of men since the times of abraham and moses, of tilgath pileser and hammurabi the lawgiver. when, oh when, will there be finally be peace on earth?”
“when the lord returns again!” a little woman in a huge straw hat, ten feet away from rebel and cowboy, shouted, but neither mr bryan nor the crowd paid her any mind.
“my friends,” mr bryan continued, ” as you may know, in my humble capacity as secretary of state, representing our great president mr john dillinger, i am scheduled to fly to europe in two days to take part in yet another peace conference, in yet another attempt to dispel the dark clouds of war which are gathering over the earth yet again. i hope and pray that i, and my colleagues representing the other great nations of the world, may have some success, and i ask that you pray on our behalf. and yet - and yet - i must ask why, why at this stage of the world’s history, must we even have nations - why can not all mankind live together as one family?”
“because the lord has not returned yet!” shouted the little woman in the big straw hat.
“what would it take?” mr bryan resumed after a few seconds’ pause, “what would it take for the nations to stand shoulder to shoulder together? would it take a plague? would it take fire from the sky? would it take an invasion from a mighty army from beyond the earth - from venus or mars? i ask you, my dear friends, would not the nations come together in such a case? of course they would!
why then, i ask you, can they not come together now? with this question, i leave you to prepare for my journey. i see many of you folks have brought picnic baskets with you, and i wish i could join you
in emptying them, and in enjoying this beautiful summer day. thank you.”
“i don’t know,” said a farmer in overalls a few feet in front of the two reporters, “ sounded like a bit of bolshevism to me, all that about the nations coming together.”
another man, who might have been his brother, shook his head. “mr bryan isn’t as young or sharp as he used to be.”
“that’s it? ” reb said to cowboy, “we came all the way down here in this heat to listen to that? what was all that about venus and mars at the end?”
“probably something in the bible. come on, let’s get out of here, get to the lemonade stand before it runs out.”
“ i could use something a little stronger than lemonade. you said you knew someplace in this dry land, where the desperate can find comfort?”
“of course. just stick with me.”
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